The Adventures of Finch Harrington Pt. 2


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Lily Pliske, Editor


Two Years Later. . . 


Finch sucked in quick breaths as he ran, pushing more force into his legs. The surrounding trees blurred by as he ran, and the world disappeared. There was only him and this last stretch of land. He jumped over a rock and soured into the air. His foot hit the ground wrong and his leg gave in. He tumbled, rolling to a stop under a tree. 

Finch laughed as he got up and brushed the dirt off his pants. He had run to his estimate about six miles, which was pretty good. Ever since he had been rejected at his first choosing ceremony, Finch was determined to be picked again. He had worked every day building his strength, so he would be a good pick. 

He could now easily lift over a hundred and fifty pounds, and run almost ten miles. He had gotten good grades in school and graduated. He was fourteen, almost fifteen, and ready for his quest. 

Nobody from last year had come back yet. The town was still waiting for the return of the fifteen. Finch personally did not think any of them were going to come home. They were all dead, still trying to finish their quest, or out there in the world somewhere. 

He often wondered if there were other towns out there. Other people who they discovered, creatures they befriended. There had to be something out there other than nothing and death. 

Finch jogged back to his house. There was a note pinned to his door.

Dear Finch,

I headed to the market to pick up a few things for dinner tonight. Your clothes for the choosing ceremony tonight are on your bed.

Love, Mom

He pulled the paper off the nail and unlocked the door. He went upstairs and showered, changed quickly, and went down to his living room. He flipped open his book and read until his mother came home.

“How was the market?” He asked her as she walked through the door.

“Good, I got some fish for dinner tonight.” Finch nodded as his mom pulled out a pan. She drizzled some oil into it and set it on the stove to heat. She unwrapped the fish and seasoned it. Then dropped it into the pan with a sizzle. 

“Can I help you with anything?” 

“Yeah, you can make the salad.” Finch got up and found their large wooden salad bowl. He chopped up lettuce, shredded carrots, diced apples, added some goat cheese, and drizzled dressing onto it.

His mother put the fish on two different plates. He dished them both up a large helping of salad. Finch sliced some bread and set it on the plate. His mother gave him a tight smile as she handed him a fork.  Finch knew his mother was nervous. She didn’t want him to be chosen. 

“Hey mom don’t worry, if I get chosen I’ll come back. I promise.” His mother looked up. She was clearly holding back tears. She sniffed.

“Okay.” They ate in silence. Finch cleared the table and washed the dishes. The hot water made a steam cloud that fogged up the window. He was looking over at Irina’s house. He tried not to think about her.

“Mom! We gotta go.” Finch called as he grabbed his coat. 

“Coming.” His mother walked out with a box. “In case I don’t see you after the choosing ceremony, I want you to have this.” She handed him the small box. There was a flower on the top. Finch lifted the lid. There was a necklace inside with a leather string and a metal pendant on it. 

“It’s for luck. So you always remember me and where you come from.” Finch gave his mother a tight hug.

“I love it and you. Thank you.” She gave him a tight squeeze. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Finch and his mother walked to where the choosing ceremony was being held. He went through the posses, got his tattoo, and found his spot. His heart was racing. He could barely think. What if his name was drawn? Or what if his name wasn’t drawn? What if he had to wait again? Fell the disappointment of not getting picked? Someone shook his shoulder. 


“Your Finch right?”


“Your name was just drawn.”